CEMETERY MUSINGS
Do the dead know the answers?
Does proximity to the soil help to unravel ultimate mysteries?
I just know it is all too peaceful, all too green and trusting,
The clutter of fallen autumn leaves whispers the mortality of man.
Red, yellow and orange entities crunch beneath my murderous feet.
All the names on tombstones seem so old
Impersonal warnings that the big sleep will also claim me.
An impetus to growth, to living fully in the now.
As I grow older, I hope to be less cautious,
Ready to plum the nectar of life unafraid of mistakes and misgivings.
Am I living by the scheme of nature?
Do the dead know I am plunging toward disaster?
They will not speak now.
They will forever hold their peace.
The autumn chill sets in, but the dead don't seem to mind.
I just know it is all too peaceful...
-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2024
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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